


The House That Jack Built

by CinderScoria



Category: Zombies Run!
Genre: F/M, Gen, also: spoilers through the season one finale, that is the question, to ship or not to ship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 17:41:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4358333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinderScoria/pseuds/CinderScoria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This house is the last tie she has to life before the apocalypse, and it’s crumbling beneath her fingertips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The House That Jack Built

Janine has to remind herself to breathe as she combs through what used to be her farmhouse. The damage isn’t as bad as previously assumed. It’s still standing, barely, and most of the shacks surrounding it are erect. They’re in shambles, of course, but that can be rectified. The rocket missed vital areas… but the attack still has fatalities. People, supplies, compromised storage facilities, the list goes on and on. Janine stares at the charred railing on the porch and is too numb, too tired to be enraged.

 

The shock has worn off. All that’s left now is exhaustion. But she can’t sleep. There are no barracks, no materials to lay out. An attack is in imminent, even if New Canton has backed off and there’s no sign of Van Ark’s army of bazooka-bearing zombs. They’re crippled. They’re down. There isn’t time for sleep.

Sam shuffles up behind her. She can tell it’s him because he shifts and hems and haws and clears his throat like he doesn’t think she can hear him. She doesn’t want to deal with his nervous ticks and his naive idealism, his optimistic pep talks and his awkward but genuine comfort.

He opens his mouth. “The, ah, soldiers have secured the perimeter. Maxine has been tending to everyone hurt, but it doesn’t look good. Most of our supplies are gone. They… the zombs, they’ve either got incredible aim or they got lucky, but most of our storage facilities have been, well, obliterated.” He stops to take a breath. “And, uh, we were wondering… what do we do? Janine?”

Janine doesn’t respond for a long time. “My father built this house,” she says finally. She’s not talking to Sam, not really. Maybe it’s the blow to the head she sustained when her world exploded.

“Oh.” Sam must have come to the same conclusion. “Oh. Right. I’m, uh… I’m sorry, Janine.”

“Me too.” She reaches out and brushes her fingertips along the railing. We don’t have time for this, she thinks. Her fingers come back stained with soot. “He loved fire,” she says aloud. “Loved burning things down. But this house… pride and joy, this house was. Never let a soul touch it, not unless they had exclusive permission.”

“Janine…”

She looks at him properly. His glasses are miraculously intact. There’s blood on his cheeks and his wrist has been wrapped, but aside from that he’s fine. His eyes are dark and wary. He’s probably convinced she’s going to hit him. Any other time she would have.

“He was a bully,” she finishes. “Used to throw me and my mother around. Burned Mum with cigarettes. She’d take it, but me, I antagonized him. Used to love tossing me off the porch, right over this railing.” A wry smile passes over her lips, even though it isn’t funny. She squeezes her hand and the wood crumbles beneath her fingertips. Good riddance, she thinks, but it’s thought with a heavy heart.

Sam’s still watching her. He scans his eyes from the railing to the roof, crumbling in on itself three floors above. “I wish I had more happy memories of my father,” he says. For once his voice isn’t shaky and unsure. He always spoke like he spoke too quickly and thought too much about each word the came out of his mouth. “He’s not a bad man, you know, just harsh. Grew up that way. Wanted me to grow up that way, I suppose, but that… that wasn’t me. And he knew it. Mum did her best but he and I never got along much.

“There is one time, though, I remember when I was… oh, ten maybe? And my sister’d broken my walkie-talkie, one of my first ones. I was so upset, so angry, and when he found me breaking apart her Lego castle in return…” He grimaces some. “I expected him to tear me a new one, really. He didn’t though. He sat me down and helped me put her Legos back together. He told me things have sentimental value, even silly things like toys. My sister, she didn’t understand that. She’s brilliant but, you know, she was only seven. He told me you hold memories in things—objects, toys, buildings, you name it. Takes you back to the time you had it. But it doesn’t include all that other stuff. He said, “Nostalgia is a dirty liar that insists things were better than they seemed.” I didn’t get it then, but I think I do now.”

“Is there a point to this, Mr. Yao?”

“Well, no, not really.” Sam gnaws on his lower lip. “It’s just a house, Janine. And, I don’t know if you noticed, but we are completely vulnerable right now. We don’t know what’s going on. We have no idea how to fix this. Runner Five and Runner Eight are out there blind and we are stranded in the water here. I—we—need you.”

Janine can hear glass tinkling from inside the house. He’s right. Miraculous, but true all the same. She takes a long look at the railing before straightening her shoulders and turning to Sam.

“Right then. You said the perimeter has been secured?”

Sam grins. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She starts at a brisk walk towards the hospital. “Get me a headcount of the survivors and take stock of what essentials we have left. Get someone to help you if you can and meet me at the hospital with a report.”

“Survivors, essentials, meet you at hospital. Gotcha.” Sam turns to do so but Janine calls him again. He stops and raises his eyebrows at her. “Yeah?”

“Thank you.”

A flicker of concern crosses his face. “I think you should maybe get yourself checked out too, Janine. You might have hit your head too hard.”

She laughs. Despite his previous statement he smiles as well and leaves to complete his mission. Janine turns her back to the farmhouse. She’ll return, eventually, to confront these memories. But she walks away now. And she doesn’t look back.


End file.
